While it seems that almost everyone long ago boarded the pop rai ship, veteran Bellemou Messaoud, known as "the father of rai" is one who's stayed away from that. He might employ guitar and keyboard -- a keyboard that sometimes sounds very cheesy (as on "Ana Wa Gzalli") -- but the heartbeat of his music is untterly Algerian, as perhaps befits someone who isn't a singer or frontman, but a trumpeter. There's an irony, however, in that when Messaoud began recording in 1968, utilizing his trumpet as a lead instrument, that style was called "rai pop," and it probably represented a turning point from the true traditional desert music. And those who followed, the ones who turned the music upside down again in the '80s, were often those who'd studied at the School of Rai he established after leaving recording in 1975 (he returned in the mid-'80s). But this record is completely in his '60s style, with their lyrics of yearning and unrequited love -- a long way from the angry politics and underclass life that rai so often represents. In some ways it's rai light by modern standards, on songs like "Nzour Nabra," where no one will mistake the polite singing of Ourad Houari for the emotive heart rending of Khaled. There's a formality and, sometimes, it seems, a formula to the music, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, even if it adds to the lightweight feeling of it all. Messaoud might well be the father of modern rai, but, if so, he's definitely more Ozzie Nelson than Archie Bunker. ~ Chris Nickson